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She is on her way to her new employer and has no friends or family to turn to.’

      The woman who stood on the step, one long white hand raised to hold open the door, surprised Joanna. She was tall, dressed with sombre elegance in a dark gown of excellent cut and, although at least forty-five, retained striking good looks. In Joanna’s experience ladies of that age were matrons and dressed and appeared exactly that. This lady had a faintly dangerous and independent air about her.

      She looked Joanna up and down, a faint smile on her well-cut lips, then raised an eyebrow at her brother, who hastened to complete the introductions. ‘Lucille, my dear, this is Miss Wilson. Miss Wilson, my sister, Miss Thoroughgood.’

      Joanna bobbed a curtsy. ‘I must apologise, ma’am, for this intrusion. The Reverend Thoroughgood has been most kind to me in my predicament and has offered to allow me to stay for a few days until my letter reaches my new employer and she is able to send a carriage for me.’

      ‘Of course. We are delighted you are here, Miss Wilson. Would you like to come upstairs to your room?’ Her voice was cool, not unpleasant, but Joanna sensed a strange current of amusement underlying her words. It made her uneasy, which was ridiculous. She was tired, that was all. Tired, upset by the theft and still not entirely recovered from her stomach upset.

      ‘Thank you, ma’am.’ She followed her hostess into a dark hall, up the stairs and into a room. Miss Thoroughgood stood aside as she entered and Joanna walked forward a few steps before turning to see both brother and sister standing in the doorway watching her. ‘I…’ Her voice died away as she took in their cool, assessing expressions and realised that the room she was in was virtually bare except for a bed and a washstand. The narrow window was barred with iron.

       Chapter Six

      ‘I must congratulate you, Thaddeus,’ Miss Thoroughgood said, eyeing Joanna up and down in much the same way as she might have assessed the points of a horse. ‘This one will do excellently. A real young lady.’

      ‘And a virtuous young lady,’ he replied, tugging off his clerical collar and bands with a grunt of relief. ‘You are a virtuous young lady, are you not, Miss Wilson?’

      Her flaming cheeks were all the answer he wanted and a smirk of satisfaction crossed his nondescript features, which up until that moment Joanna had found reassuringly bland.

      The sudden change in tone was completely disorientating. ‘I think there must be some mistake,’ she said coldly, taking a step towards them. ‘I will leave now.’

      ‘Oh no, dear,’ Miss Thoroughgood replied. ‘You will not leave this room until we are ready to send you to London.’ She turned to her brother. ‘When is Thomas collecting the next consignment?’

      ‘He has a carriage making the rounds now, he should be with us by the day after tomorrow.’

      ‘London? What are you talking about? Let me go at once.’ Joanna tried to keep her voice steady and confident, but it shook despite her efforts. The brother and sister seemed to grow before her eyes until all she was aware of was their assessing looks, their amused smiles, the way their eyes slid over her body.

      The woman addressed her frigidly. ‘You go where we send you. You belong to us now. In a day or two you will be in the hands of your new master, on the way to your new…home.’

      ‘Belong? What are you talking about? I have an employer…’

      ‘You are about to get an owner. Milo Thomas, the biggest whoremaster in the capital, is going to pay us very well indeed for such an untouched treasure as you, my dear.’

      ‘Whore…no!’ Joanna backed away, stopping abruptly as the back of her legs hit the bed. ‘You are wrong about me! I am a respectable girl, not…’

      ‘Not yet.’ Thaddeus sounded amused at her lack of comprehension. ‘Not yet, but you will be. You will learn all you need in one of Milo’s closed houses, and you will earn him a fortune. Someone is going to pay very good money to deflower such innocence and beauty, and even more are going to pay handsomely to watch.’

      ‘No!’ Joanna pressed her hands to her mouth. She was going to be sick, she was going to faint and then wake up and find this was a nightmare. His words made no real sense to her, except to convey a disgusting, terrifying threat. How could they imagine… She struggled for courage and to think. ‘I told you I was a governess, that I was alone in the world. That was not true. I am running away from home and I have a rich and influential family. They will be looking for me—they will pay you to get me back.’

      She broke off, panting, and watched the expressions on the two predatory faces opposite her. There was calculation going on and for a moment she dared hope, then Lucille said, ‘No. She would, of course, say that to buy time. But even if it were true, if we released her, she has seen us. As it is, a few months in Milo’s care and her family, if they exist, will not want her back to shame them.’

      She took the valise from her brother’s hand and opened it, sorting roughly through its contents. She removed a nail file and a pair of scissors, then tossed it into the room. ‘There. Now, rest and do not try to make a noise. There is no one to hear you and you will not want to annoy Thaddeus. He would not leave a mark on you, naturally, but you would be sorry none the less.’

      The door closed and Joanna heard the sharp click of a lock, then the further sound of two bolts being drawn. Shaking in every limb she sank down on the bed and tried to think, tried to plan, but all that was in her head were those obscene words. Someone was going to pay to…to… No! She buried her face in her hands and still the Thoroughgoods’ words invaded her mind, a rape in themselves. Pay to watch…pay handsomely to watch…

      It was impossible. Of course, men went to brothels, she knew that. But surely they went because they wanted women who knew what they were about, who would know how to give them pleasure? How could they want to watch a terrified girl being raped, let alone carry out the act? The sheer perversity and wickedness of such a thing steadied her as she applied her reason to it. There were people who got pleasure from being cruel to animals, there were bullies, people who maltreated their servants; perhaps this was an extreme example of that. But that there should be so many men that a brothel keeper could grow rich from them was appalling. Had she met such men? Could they go about in society hiding such evil behind a mask of respectability?

      The thought brought her back to her own fate and, for all her courage, she suddenly gave way to racking sobs, curled up on the musty counterpane where, she supposed through her misery, other girls had sobbed in despair before her. Other girls. Joanna sat up, scrubbing the back of her hand across her wet eyes. Other girls. If she did nothing, not only was she damned to this hell, but all the others who followed her would be. Under no circumstances was she going to be worthy of Giles if she gave up now.

      Joanna blew her nose, got to her feet and examined the room. Her legs felt like string, every now and again a sob escaped her, but she forced herself to search. There was nothing that could be used as a weapon. The bed was screwed to the floor, the sheets were thin with age and would tear easily. The washstand was bare of ewer or basin and under the bed the chamber pot was of such thin china that it would hardly bruise a head if she struck someone with it.

      The door, as she expected, did not even move when she pressed against it and there was no handle on her side. The window was barred, not with wood, but with iron set into the frame, and the opening sash had been screwed up.

      Joanna stared out down the front drive to the glimpse of road at the gate. Could she attract attention if someone passed? No, she would have no warning of their passing, the hedge was so high.

      So, she could not escape from here. Then it would have to be the carriage when it came. From what the Thoroughgoods had said, there might be other girls in it, girls in the same predicament. That seemed too easy—a carriage full of frantic, healthy young women would be difficult to control. In the Thoroughgoods’ shoes, if it were possible to imagine inhabiting them, she would drug the prisoners.

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